


lean on you (until we find our way)

by courageous_boss



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Serious, Oliver Green is a good dad, Roy Harper is a good friend, dick went to juvie before bruce took him in, teen rating because roy says 'shit', the kids are underaged, written as Gen and should be read as Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courageous_boss/pseuds/courageous_boss
Summary: Moments of Dick and Roy leaning on each other.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Roy Harper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 172
Collections: Dick Grayson Fic Exchange 2020





	lean on you (until we find our way)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naheka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naheka/gifts).



> Ages:  
> Roy: 17  
> Dick: 13
> 
> This is set leading up to the first Season of Young Justice. You don't have to watch the show to understand what's going on, just know that the kid sidekicks form their own team of heroes. 
> 
> Also, Dick and Roy express some degree of disliking of Bruce. It's partly because he's still figuring out how to not suck at being a social person, and partly because Dick and Roy are both traumatized kids who are still healing.

"Dude, get down."

Dick grinned down, shaking the sweat out of his hair. He licked away the sweat beading on his upper lip and reached for a higher rope.

"Seriously, your dad will kill me if he sees this."

And, wasn't that the point? Dick had given up trying to make Bruce happy a long time ago.

His core was burning and his arms felt like jello, but Dick kept up his pursuit to the highest point of the rigging.

"Come on, dude. Shouldn't you have someone spotting you for this?"

Roy was too far down to see him now, so Dick stopped for a minute to rest.

As he tried to get some feeling back into his arms and fingers, he called down, "You're here, aren't you?"

Roy huffed, all angry and frustrated in the way he always was. It was funny, and in the strangest way, made Dick feel this panicked sort of protectiveness of him.

"I don't know shit about this gymnastics thing. There's got to be an adult here," Roy fretted. "What if you fall?"

Dick looked down, squinting past the burning sweat in his eyes. He still got vertigo from being so high up and the cave floor looked especially unforgiving.

"I'm won't fall," Dick said.

Roy grumbled, low and irritated and Dick couldn't make out what he was saying.

Dick relaxed into the ropes, letting the suspension cradle his body. He was still sweating and the breath in his chest was still hot and shallow.

Then, one of the ropes grew taunt and Dick was jostled about. He gripped the rigging tightly, his foggy brain taking a few moments to process what was happening.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, climbing down a bit.

Roy was hardly a meter off the floor, but the fear in his eyes was huge and wild and urgent. Dick's chest tightened.

"I'm coming up, dumbass," Roy snapped, fingers white as he clung to the rigging.

He made quick work of it, pushing himself up even as the panic in his movements caused him to slip and readjust repeatedly. Dick slowly climbed down, meeting him about halfway down.

"Hey," Roy grinned goofily once he was close enough, puffing for breath and muscles trembling.

Dick reached out to pull the ropes around him, making sure they'd catch him if his grip failed.

"You're an idiot," Dick said.

Roy shrugged, leaning heavily against the ropes as he looked around. There wasn't much to see, just rope and ceiling.

"So, what do you do up here, then?" Roy asked.

Dick blinked.

"I mean, I risked my life to get here. Tell me there's a secret entrance to some Bat-arcade or something. Do you have Pacman?"

Dick rolled his eyes, "Shut up, idiot. There's no Bat-arcade."

Roy laughed a little, but it died it his chest too quickly. His smile thinned and he held himself very still.

Dick eyed him uneasily.

"What?" Dick asked.

"Don't get mad at me for asking, okay?"

"For asking, what? About the arcade?"

"No, dude. Come on. Be serious for a second," Roy huffed.

And, oh. This, then.

"I don't want to talk about it," Dick warned, eying the height he'd reached to earlier.

The gross, glowing concern in Roy's eyes had him regretting climbing closer down.

"I know you're good and you can take care of yourself. I know," Roy said, still. "But, if you ever want to talk shit. I'm here. I get it."

Dick didn't think Roy did get it.

_How could he?_

He still couldn't sleep without seeing the circus. He still couldn't smell blood without bringing up bile.

And, Alfred was so good and kind but Dick still couldn't tell him that he hated the gross cucumber sandwiches. Because he'd gone hungry for so long that his stomach had stopped caring what his taste buds had to say.

His ribs still twinged when he ran through his stretches and Dick didn't think the ache would ever go away.

He'd never recover from that prison and he'd always be one misstep away from ending up back there.

How could Roy understand that Dick was just _pretending_ to be strong and brave and good?

If Roy were to ever see he was just weak and scared and selfish, he'd realize that Dick was just a wimpy little kid. And he'd leave.

He'd leave and Dick didn't want him to.

So he shook his head, frowning, "I don't need to talk. I'm good."

Roy hummed, "Sure, dude. That's fine. Just, in the future. If you ever want to. I'll still be here."

"I know."

* * *

The Batcave wasn't a place that Roy ever thought he'd be running to.

But the stinging in his chest wasn't letting up, and he couldn't chance hanging around the house and running into Ollie again. Not yet.

Dick, once, when Bruce had been especially controlling, had given Roy the login credentials. Roy hadn't thought much of it at the time. He liked sticking it to rich, white men who thought that the world should bend to their will. He'd listened closely and grinned at Dick's attempts at rebellion.

"You know, if he had it his way, there would be no Bruce or Dick. Just Batman and Robin, all day, every day," Dick had said then, all huffy and angry at the world.

Now, Roy found himself envious of that. What wouldn’t he give for Ollie to back off? To just talk shop and sleep away the rest of the day.

Instead, Ollie kept ambushing him, always carrying a cup of steaming tea to hold as a shield between them.

"What about college, kid?" He'd ask, full of nauseating concern.

Or, "You've got to have something outside of the cape, Roy," and never stop to realize how hypocritical he was.

For Roy, the cape was all he had now. And if Ollie hadn't wanted that, he should have never brought him into the life.

"Roy? What are you doing here?" Dick was sitting by the computer, absolutely dwarfed by the enormity of the thing.

Roy looked around. Batman didn't seem to be around but the dog, Ace, was curled up and sleeping.

"Nothing, just. Want to go out? There's this skate park. It could be fun," Roy said, shifting uneasily.

He'd forgotten how gross and awful the Cave was. At least Ollie had put some flooring in. Batman had left the rock bare and cold and hard.

Dick spun the chair around, revealing a heavily bandaged leg. Ace perked up, still half asleep as he lumbered over, sniffed uneasily at Dick's toes where they poked out of the cast, and dropped down to sleep again.

"What happened?" Roy asked.

As dangerous as their job was, Robin didn't get injured very often. He was usually too high up to enter the fight, or if he did, quick enough to evade.

Dick's expression shuttered.

"Nothing," he mumbled, "Just fell."

He turned back to the computer and started typing, effectively shutting down Roy's questions.

And, well, Roy wasn’t nosy. If Dick didn't want to tell him, that was fine. But, skating was clearly not an option.

Noisily, so that Dick could call him out if he wanted, Roy made his way over and collapsed into the chair besides Dick. Ace awoke again and moved to sit against Roy's feet, curling against their warmth as he continued his nap.

Dick let the silence hang for a while, working on what Roy could see was a mission report.

Roy took the time to work through his frustration, slowly letting it go. He'd managed to calm himself down mostly when Dick spoke up.

"And, um. You?"

"Huh?" Roy asked, confused.

Dick blushed a bit, turning shy as he looked at Roy, "I mean – What happened to you? Why are you here?"

Roy could easily say that he didn't want to talk about it and Dick would accept it. But Dick deserved an explanation at the very least.

"It's just Ollie. It's not a big deal. He just keeps bothering me. Like, he acts like he cares, but only about the little things. Like college. I don't know, it just seems fake. Like, he's only doing what he thinks he should be doing – and not what he actually wants to be doing."

"Oh," Dick said, frowning as he mulled over Roy's words.

"Like I said, it's not a big deal," Roy urged, because he really didn't want to worry Dick with his problems.

"Okay. But I think it is a big deal,” Dick cut in seriously. “Roy, if Ollie is trying to talk to you, maybe try to meet him halfway? I don't know. Alfie does it sometimes too. Like, he gets all worried about me and he wants to say something. But then he remembers that I'm not B and he stops himself. I think it's just concern. Because he loves me. Maybe that's why it's so hard for Ollie to talk about this stuff with you.”

Roy frowned, studying the kid beside him.

He was part creeped out that Dick always seemed to have something useful to say about any situation. Mostly, he was in awe that already had his head sorted. Not for the first time, Roy marvelled over how awesome Dick's parents had to have been to have taught him so much so young.

"But, like you said, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Sorry," Dick said, apologizing.

"No, no," Roy said, "Thanks. You're making sense."

Roy didn't think he'd ever sit and talk about his ‘feelings’ with Ollie, but maybe he could meet him halfway and talk about his plans after high school. A middle ground where they could both be comfortable.

"Thanks, dude," Roy said, grinning all big and annoying.

Dick huffed, kicking his chair with his good foot. "I was just scared you were going to start crying."

"Can't have me getting tears all over your fancy computer, right?" Roy joked.

Dick just huffed out another laugh and went back to work.

* * *

Speedy was tucked high into the rigging in the Batcave. No one knew he was here. Or, at least, Batman didn't. Robin had thrown a dirty look his way but hadn't given up his position.

"Robin, it's a no. What part of that is unclear to you?" Batman was saying, voice hard and annoyed.

It was always amazing to Roy how Robin could keep from flinching when Batman turned angry around him. Roy was many things, but a coward was not one of them. Yet, even he, when Batman would raise those extra few inches, muscles tight and ready to spring forward, would give in and flee.

Robin, though, held his ground.

"The part where I even asked for permission, B," Robin snapped, all tiny and squeaky compared to Batman's growl.

Batman sat silently, at the computer, the weight of his cape slapping the air as he moved. He started up the computer, clicking into his files like there wasn't a furious kid glaring daggers into his back.

"What? Are you finished talking? Come on, B. Don't act like a child," Robin taunted.

Roy wanted to spring down and grab him. Take him far, far away from Bruce and his cold words and his huge, bulging muscles.

"What are you saying, Robin? That you'll go rogue?" Batman snapped, still facing the computer.

"Dammit, B! Look at me when we're talking!" Robin said, arms moving wide and frustrated.

Roy knew him. Knew that this was Dick at the end of his rope. When he'd tried everything he could and was one misstep away from turning to little kid instincts he was still growing out off.

"We're not talking. You are. I'm finished," Batman said shortly.

Roy watched, chest tight and burning as Dick went still. His face was red and his muscles were slack, like all the fight had been pulled out of him. He didn't move for a few slow minutes. He just stood and stared at the back of Batman's cowled head.

When Batman continued to ignore him, Dick turned and headed to the locker room. While he was gone, Batman continued whatever work he was doing on the computer, but Roy would bet his college fund that it wasn't anything urgent.

A few minutes later, Dick came back out, dressed in a loose track suit, the Robin suit and grime scrubbed clean. He was too high up to tell, but Roy was sure his eyes were red and teary.

"Are you going to say anything?" He asked Batman, voice tight.

And, God. He was just a kid. Why wouldn't Batman get off his ass and be his dad?

"I've said everything I needed to," Batman said.

Dick flinched, down into himself like he'd been stuck.

"Fine. Then listen. Tomorrow, when Wally, Kaldur," Dick glanced up for a second, "and Roy. When they get to the base, you're going to give them some respect. If, even for a second, you try to treat them like they're little kids... Like they can't take care of themselves, I'm done. We're making this team. With or without your permission."

Batman went still, like a snake ready to strike, "Is that a threat?"

If Batman moved, Roy was ready to jump him.

"It's a promise," Dick said, and then turned and left.

The lock slid shut behind him and in the echoing of it, Roy watched as Batman clicked into another file.

* * *

Batman, surpassing Roy’s expectations, failed spectacularly at introducing the young group of vigilantes.

The kids (and Roy could call them kids because he was well and truly older and smarter than them in every way that mattered) had gone with nothing but trust, and had left an emboldened team of heroes.

Roy could admit that what they'd done had taken some serious balls, but mostly he wished that it had never happened. The kids were safer when following orders and their new, rogue status would no doubt have them hesitating to call for backup if they needed it.

And, of course, there was the whole Superboy issue.

"There's a kid here," Oliver hovered at his door, face all twisted with concern.

It wasn't a look that Roy liked seeing.

"Can you be more descriptive?" Roy asked, sliding off the bed.

He swallowed the wince of pain as his bruised ribs twinged for Oliver's sake. Red Arrow had taken a nasty blow the night before and Roy wasn't up to having Oliver's sad, puppy eyes on him.

"Short, grouchy and creepy," Oliver said.

So, Robin, then.

"He seems injured," Oliver said, full of worry. Because he loved Robin. Because _everyone_ loved Robin.

"So, med bay, then?" Roy asked, reaching to grab his hoodie.

"Yeah, we're fully stocked so just get him treated properly. Remember to adjust the dosages. And remember –”

"His allergies, yes, I remember," Roy said, shouldering past Oliver.

Oliver hooked an arm over his shoulder and pulled him into his version of a hug (sufficiently 'manly' of course). Roy let him, but only for a few seconds. Then he drove an elbow into Oliver's stomach and ran.

He found Robin on the exam table in the mad bay, hunched over himself and shivering.

"Hey, kid," Roy said.

Robin frowned, all grumpy. "Don't call me a kid."

Roy grinned an annoying grin and tossed the jacket at him, "It's cold in here and your suit is barely thicker than paper."

Robin frowned, rolling his eyes as he pulled on the jacket.

"So, what going on?" Roy asked, moving towards the supplies so he could grab what he needed.

Instead of answering, Robin looked around, eyes searching the ceilings, "Is, um, is anyone listening to us?"

Roy's own concern was bubbling in his chest.

"Ollie's home but he's not going to spy on us. I swear," Roy said.

He discreetly checked Robin over for any worrying symptoms. However, besides his exaggerated shiftiness, Roy didn't think that Robin was under any fear toxins.

"Alright, fine. Just. Bruce can't know about this. Or anyone. Okay?" Robin spat, voice firm and sharp.

"Jeez, kid. Calm down. I'm not going to snitch on you."

Robin glared for a few, long moments before he started undoing the top of his suit. He peeled the cloth and armour away to reveal his chest, mottled with huge bruises.

"Fuck," Roy swore, "What the hell happened?"

He reached out to touch, but Robin curled away with a wince.

"Why didn't you get Alfred to look at this?" Roy snapped, furious and annoyed.

These bruises looked a few days old and Robin could hardly move without his face shuttering.

"It's complicated," Robin whispered.

Roy watched, fury burning in his stomach, as Robin steeled himself and pressed himself closer to Roy's reach. Roy swore under his breath, grabbing the numbing cream and scooping out a measured amount. As lightly and gently as he could, he spread the cream over the area and then backed away.

Roy pinched Robin's elbow and turned to grab some bandages, "The cream takes a few minutes to work. We have time. Explain."

Robin sighed, body going droopy. "You've heard about Superboy?"

Roy nodded.

"Well, apparently whatever Lex did to actually create Superboy left Superman traumatized."

Roy's stomach lurched, mind wandering to the darkest, cruellest acts. Superman may seem naive at times, but that man had lived through horrors. Whatever had managed to shake him would have to be truly terrible.

Robin nodded, looking just as haunted.

"He's been meeting with Black Canary about it for months now -- and Batman hadn't been made aware."

"Okay."

"Now that we've got Superboy, Batman wants Superman to take him on as a sidekick."

Roy's chest ran cold, "And Superman's refusing?"

Robin nodded, "While Batman works on getting Superman to cooperate, Superboy's staying at the base. And he's. Well, he's grumpy."

"Grumpy," Roy deadpanned.

"Superboy hasn't done anything wrong since we rescued him. These bruises are from that first night when he didn't know us. He's already struggling. If I told anyone about this," Robin waved over his chest, "they'd go berserk. They don't trust him yet, and I don't want to make anything harder than it needs to be."

Cautiously, Roy poked at the edge of a bruise. Robin didn't react, so he set to work patching and wrapping the worst of it.

"And how's Superman?" Roy asked.

Robin and Superman had a special relationship. In the most amusing way, they were like brothers, always hanging off each other and marching into mischief. They'd been on the receiving end of too many lectures from Batman, who failed repeatedly to hide his jealousy.

Roy was glad that Superman had taken to Robin so well. There were many weekends where Roy would call the Manor for Robin, only to be told that he was staying with Superman. It was good to know that Robin had a safe place to run too if he needed.

"He's not good. It's bad," Robin said, finally reaching up to peel away his mask.

Roy worked around him, clipping the wrapped bandages securely.

"He's trying. I know he is. He comes to the base sometimes. He tries to talk to Superboy. But Superboy is also traumatized. He's angry and has been fed all these lies by Lex," Dick said.

Roy hopped up to sit beside Dick. He slung an arm gently over his shoulders and pulled him against his side.

"You and I – we know that Superman can't just go around adopting kids because he thinks he has to. That's not right, safe or fair to anyone," Roy said.

It wasn't a causal relationship that existed between a hero and their partner. Superman would have to trust Superboy to watch his back. More, he'd have to trust that Superboy could take care of himself.

Roy had a feeling that having Batman breathing down his neck wasn't helping Superman's recovery. The added pressure to take Superboy under his tutelage was probably driving a wedge between the man and his clone.

"I'll get Ollie to talk to Bruce," Roy promised.

Dick was stiff at his side and after a long, heavy sniffly, he choked out, "I'm so tired, Roy."

His voice was thin and tired and sliced a burning wound into Roy's insides.

"I mean -- B lied to us. And if you hadn't barged in, we'd have been played for fools. Like little kids. And my body hurts. And I'm so scared for Superman. He's in a bad place and I don't know how to help," Dick rambled, face red and flushed with fear and anger.

Roy didn't know how to start fixing all of these problems.

Superman’s problem was too big and grown-up for him.

Batman needed to figure out how to be a parent and a leader on his own.

And Dick needed a break.

Roy poked Dick's shoulder, careful not to jab any of his bruises, “I’m sorry I can't help you. I really am. I’m going to get Ollie to kick B’s ass and I know Dinah’s going to have Superman sorted out in no time.”

Dick sighed, the fight flowing out of him. He turned a weak smile at Roy.

“Thanks, Roy,” he leaned against Roy’s side.

“Are you going to fall asleep?”

“Hmm,” Dick hummed, sounding halfway to dreamland. “No. Why?”

Roy knew it was probably better to let the kid sleep. But.

“Ollie added a new addition to the cave,” he said.

“Really? Finally cracked open the suggestion box?” Dick teased.

“More like I told him it would make the Arrow Cave superior to the Batcave and he fell for it.”

Dick sat up, eyes wide, “Wait...”

Roy nodded, grinning. “Yep. We now have a fully equipped Arrow-Arcade. You’d be surprised at how expensive the games are.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“We’ve got two player Pacman. Think you can beat my high score?”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Genfic, Roy&Dick, I like hurt comfort with a competent dick grayson, so anything with him being a badass and then needing some cuddles and patching up afterwards while he whines. but really any kind of hurt comfort with any of the pairings


End file.
